The rest of the afternoon in Texture lab was as 'auspicious' as its start.

Mac and Boysen both showed marked improvement in Madame Dacquoise's spellwork while using Lyra's musical technique. Only Caramelle's results were unchanged, though she was anxious to assure Professor Puff that this had nothing to do with the efficacy of the songs.

"I think they really are helpful," Caramelle insisted. "I can see how the music keeps you in rhythm and makes it easier to remember the words. The numbers, I mean. But I —"

Professor Puff held up a hand to silence her. "Understood, Aspiring Baker Meringue. I was not expecting the music to increase your skills, so highly developed as they already are. With you, I was watching for any effect in the opposite direction. I am glad to note that the music is not detrimental. So far, at least."

She looked at each of them for a long moment with her keenest, shrewdest gaze.

"This is a most suitable group for such experimentation. With your varying strengths and weaknesses, we have an opportunity to measure a wide range of effects over the next three weeks. Or, as seems more likely after today's events… over the entire term."

Then, to the shock of all four first-years, Professor Puff winked.

—

After such success in Flavor and Texture, Lyra felt reasonably confident walking into Presentation lab on Thursday morning. If she did have any lingering anxiety, Professor Genoise's greeting would have banished it instantly.

"At last!" he sighed as the magical chime rang to mark the start of class. "My colleagues have been taunting me all week with tales of wonder and discovery. But now, at last, it is my turn!"

Noticing that they had taken their seats, he began waving vigorously. "No, no! Up here, all of you. This instant. I shall wait no longer. We begin at once!"

The first-years gathered around the professor's work-station, which was crowded with bowl after bowl of frosting.

Plain, white frosting, just begging to be transformed into various colors.

Boysen nudged Lyra. "I wonder what spell you'll be singing today?" he whispered loudly.

"No time for your famous family wit, I'm afraid, Berry." Professor Genoise bustled in between Lyra and Boysen, actually rolling up his elegantly tailored sleeves. "Treble gave me a crumb of her work with Master Brulée on Monday, and I have been waiting ever since for the full meal. Primary colors first, and then on to the lighter shades!"

"Don't you want to do a normal round first?" Caramelle asked hesitantly. "To establish a baseline?"

"Spoken like a true Texturist." Professor Genoise smiled at Caramelle before polishing his monocle and affixing it firmly to his eye. "You do yourself and my esteemed colleague proud, Meringue, but to each their own style. I have seen plenty of 'normal' coloring charms from all of you to establish miles of baseline. Now it's time for some abnormal dazzling! Which color first?"

"Blue," Boysen suggested innocently. Then he winked at Lyra. "It's Treble's favorite."

She stuck out her tongue at him, switching to a radiant smile when Professor Genoise looked at her. "That is true. Blue is my favorite of the primary color melodies."

"Then let's hear it." Professor Genoise pointed to the nearest bowl of white frosting. "Do your magic, Treble. Literally."

Lyra gladly obliged. She sang the familiar 'Blue' tune, steady and straightforward with a surprising thread of richness. The wave of Presentation magic that erupted from her fingertips was definitely brighter than it had ever been before, and the resulting color had never been so vivid. It was the exact shade of Professor Puff's Texture apron and headscarf, actually: perfectly, absolutely blue.

The first-years had all been expecting success, but even Lyra was surprised at the potency of it.

Maybe it's a cumulative effect, she thought, savoring the frosting's vibrant hue while her internal chorus of delight shifted to a higher key. I've been singing the spells all week, so I know it works. Now I can just enjoy it.

Professor Genoise, meanwhile, was beside himself. His eyes widened so quickly that his monocle popped out and dangled from its golden chain, forgotten.

"Never seen anything like it," he whispered. "Master Brulée himself would… oh, if only he were alive to see it!"

Selecting another bowl, he thrust it into Lyra's hands. "Purple next, please? That's my favorite."

The whole day was even better than the Flavor and Texture lab days. For one thing, Lyra wasn't making up all the songs on the spot. Master Brulée's Coloring Charms felt just as comfortable and familiar as her old Any Weather Bards repertoire. She did have to get a little creative towards the end, when Professor Genoise insisted on venturing into some truly obscure shades, but it was fun.

"Aureolin? Celadon? I didn't even know those colors existed," she confided to the other Whizzes that night. "But I'm glad I know now. The world feels a little richer, somehow. More… varied."

"More dramatic?" Mac suggested.

Lyra grinned at the budding Presentation expert. "Yes. Exactly."

But an even bigger factor in Lyra's enjoyment of the day was Professor Genoise himself. His enthusiasm was even deeper than Professor Honeycomb's, though more elegantly expressed. Not content to watch the students try the different color charm-songs, he insisted on joining in, learning and singing along with gusto. He turned out to have a marvelous tenor voice.

"Every baker needs a hobby," he reminded them, laughing at their astonishment. "Mine was opera. 'Twas a wrench to give it up, honestly."

Lyra believed it. Professor Genoise was a baker to the core, but some special part of him seemed to come alive when he sang. He performed the coloring charms with deep feeling and a stage presence that would make Thespy weep for joy.

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When the magical chime rang to announce the end of Thursday's lab, Professor Genoise seemed genuinely crestfallen.

"Fie on this 'three week trial period' nonsense," he said stoutly. "This has been the most enlivening lab day I've had in years! I shall confer with the other professors, and we'll see what the morrow brings."

The Presentation headmaster was true to his word. After a full day of review in all three classes on Friday, the end-of-week 'tribunal' kicked off with a special announcement.

"It has been a most illuminating week," Professor Puff said calmly. "We have all been surprised by the impact of Aspiring Baker Treble's… unique contributions. None more so than I."

Professor Honeycomb patted her sedate colleague's shoulder. "Which is why we have come to a unanimous decision. We are —"

"Music at will!" Professor Genoise burst out. "If anyone feels inclined to set spells to music, they may do so. In class, for homework — with abandon!"

"With decorum," Professor Puff corrected gently. "I do agree that a single week has been sufficient for the trial period. I waive my original 'three week' request, but I stand by my original condition: students may sing spells only so long as it does not become a distraction or a hindrance."

Professor Genoise bowed gallantly. "Of course. No one likes a loud diva." Then he gazed out at the first-years, smiling fondly. "But I doubt we will have an issue with this particular group."

"No, indeed." Professor Honeycomb clapped as she gave the students her own affectionate smile. "It is going to be a third term like no other. Oh, what a week!"

—

"What a week," Mac sighed, accepting his mug of hot chocolate from Boysen.

They had all gathered in Whisk after dinner. Since it was Friday, this would be the first 'Whisk Whiz Recreation' of the third term. Even Ginger was there. She was starting private lessons with Professor Genoise the following day and planned to spend the weekend with Lyra.

"You said it, Fondant." Boysen collapsed into the extra chair he'd stolen from Spatula the previous term. "Don't know what you did to Genoise, Treble, but I'm not sure he'll ever recover."

Ginger smirked. "Let's hope not. Sounds like he and the whole academy are getting just what they need."

"It's certainly not a negative change," Caramelle said slowly. She had been very quiet in the Whisk Whiz Reviews all week, as if not yet sure she had reclaimed the right of speaking. "For Professor Genoise especially. In fact, I'd say he seemed…"

"Relieved," Lyra finished. She gripped her mug with both hands and settled back into the couch between Ginger and Caramelle. "I thought so too. I could understand him being interested, at least, but I never expected this level of… fervor. It surprised me."

"Not me." Mac blew on his hot chocolate, ignoring the steam that fogged his glasses. "He's a Presentationist, after all."

Lyra looked at him curiously. "What's that got to do with it?"

"It's like the colors from yesterday," Mac replied. "You said the world felt richer, now that you knew about all these different colors. Right? That's what Presentation is all about. Making things beautiful, so that everyone who sees them feels richer. You've just shown Professor Genoise a whole new way to do that."

"Which is significant," Boysen mused. "For someone who cares as much about Presentation as he does."

Mac shook his head. "It's not just Presentation. I think Professor Genoise just really loves spectacle. Beautiful things, new things… he's 'dramatic', if you will."

"I will! Keen eye, Mac." Ginger drained her cup in one gulp and set the mug on the floor triumphantly. "Third term is off to a thumping start. Fondant over here has turned his insight meter up to 'broil.' Maybe he can side-gig as the academy therapist."

"Or medic." Caramelle gave Mac a shy smile. "He's certainly proven to have a calm head under pressure."

Mac seemed unable to speak. He blew even harder on his hot chocolate, apparently taking refuge behind his fogged glasses.

"So how does it feel, Treble?" Boysen asked. "You're out of hiding at last. Singing the spells in front of the Puff and everybody."

Lyra took a long, reflective sip of hot chocolate. "It feels… normal. Which is strange."

"Normal and strange?" Caramelle repeated. "How?"

"Not both at once," Lyra explained. "It's… strange that it feels so normal. I've been holding it all back for so long — the music, I mean. I was so sure that singing didn't belong at the academy. That it would make me feel even more out-of-place. Or that it was just plain wrong."

Caramelle sighed. "Like… cheating?"

Lyra shrugged a silent affirmative, and Caramelle lowered her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Lyra," she said quietly, staring into her untouched hot chocolate. "I'm sorry I ever made you think that."

"You didn't," Lyra assured her. "I mean, you didn't help, but I was thinking it on my own, deep down."

"Despite all arguments to the contrary," Boysen said dryly.

Lyra grinned. "Yes. Sorry about that." She drained the last of her hot chocolate and handed it to him with a flourish. "As penance, I will allow you to make me more hot chocolate."

"The penance is satisfactory." Boysen bowed deeply, then collected Ginger's empty cup and took both to the kitchen.

"So the singing feels normal?" Ginger asked, wrapping her arms around a pillow. "Like you've always been meant to bake like that?"

"Always."

Ginger nodded shrewdly. "That was my hypothesis. Glad to see it confirmed."

"You sound like Professor Puff." Mac shuddered slightly, but it felt more like a habitual response than actual nerves. "I still can't believe she got on board so fast."

"The results of this week were incontrovertible," Caramelle said. "And the other two professors were keen. It was the only logical conclusion for the overall good of the academy."

Ginger laughed outright. "Thank you, Professor Meringue. No, I'm serious," she continued, when Lyra shot her a look. "Caramelle was born to Texture. I can definitely see her in the Puff's place one day."

Caramelle's eyes widened. "Me? Teach at the royal academy?"

"Absolutely," Ginger replied. "You'd be great."

"If you wanted to," Lyra hastened to add. "I mean, I know you said — I didn't think you wanted to work in a school."

Lyra vividly remembered Caramelle's scathing words about Chef Flax's job at the beginning of the year, but she was not going to repeat them in front of Ginger.

Still, Caramelle flushed, apparently remembering the same thing.

"I'm rethinking a lot of things right now," she said quietly. "Honestly, the thought of teaching here… that would be an honor. Quite an honor."

"And you'd be great," Ginger repeated.

Caramelle's eyes darted up to her. "You really think so?"

"I do. They'd be lucky to have you." Ginger turned to Mac. "Wouldn't you agree, Fondant?"

"Oh yes," Mac stammered. "Lucky. So lucky. Anyone would be great to — I mean, lucky to — you're great."

If Caramelle noticed Ginger's and Lyra's stifled giggles, she didn't show it. She just smiled sweetly at Mac.

"Thank you, Macaron. Truly. That means a lot." Then her shoulders slumped, and her gaze lowered to rest on her cup again. "Of course, I'd have to make it into the academy first. Past the first year."

Silence fell.

Lyra felt her own eyes pulled down to stare glumly at the fire. The week had been such a whirlwind of new delights, they had all managed to forget the harsh Flavor waiting at the bottom of the third term bowl: only three of them could go on to second year. In a matter of weeks, one of them would be leaving.

For good.

"Enough of that," Boysen called gaily, striding in from the kitchen with refills of hot chocolate and good cheer. "We have a long term ahead of us. Got to keep up our strength. And what's the most important ingredient in a Whisk Whiz's recipe for academy survival?"

"Review?" Mac guessed.

"Close. Recreation." Boysen knelt before Ginger, regally presenting her new mug. "I hereby appoint Crumble as master of the revels. She can regale us with tales from outside the academy walls."

"Only if Mac fills us in on Fortescue," Ginger shot back.

Mac nodded demurely. "Oh, I will. He could give Professor Genoise a run for his money, believe me."

"Fortescue?" Caramelle echoed. Then her eyes lit up. "Oh, your fox! Yes, please, Macaron. I so missed hearing about him, all last term."

"Sounds like we have a full program. Lots of catching up to do." Boysen caught Lyra's eye and gave her a special, Lyra-only grin. "All together, Whizzes. Ready, set —"

Three voices spoke as one, with Caramelle's joining the last syllable.

"Recreate!"

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